


Under sterilized lights

by leadingrebel



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Alternate Universe - Initiation, Angst, Confrontations, Dauntless Initiation, M/M, that time Eric surrendered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leadingrebel/pseuds/leadingrebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He swallowed ― the taste of blood still lingering at the back of his throat ― but before he could lift his gaze to look at whoever stood in the other corner of the room, a voice reached him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under sterilized lights

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Fouric trash. That's it.

_Why?_

It was the first thing that crossed his mind the moment he woke up.

The infirmary lights seemed to have infiltrated the Sun itself inside the Dauntless compound ― though it wasn’t nearly enough for the farthest corners of the room to be clearly seen. A light so white and pure it made Eric’s eyes close in rejection. He grimaced when pain pierced his skin.

As he opened them ― blinking, turning his face away so he could avoid most of the light that fell upon him ― the sensation of pressure spreading to the back of his head, ascending all the way up to his forehead and temples.

He lifted an arm with the intention of running a hand through his hair, soothing the hammering in his ears, but the motion made something to tighten up and graze the skin in his side.

Eric sat up instantly, so suddenly that pain broke through him as a training knife’s blade. A sound, between surprise and a moan, escaped his lips as he tried not to fall back again leaning on his forearm.

He felt dry blood pulling in the skin right under his nose when he inspired heavily and its metallic taste on his tongue when he swallowed.

With shaky arms he achieved to lie down without bending his torso, letting out a sight when his head touched the pillow.

As his heartbeat slowed down enough to allow him to hear something else, he could distinguished someone else’s breathing in the room. Short inspirations that ceased for a few seconds at the same time as his, waiting.

Eric breathed deeply and tried to sit up straight once again, slowly.

He thought about who it could be among the low options.

A doctor. Maybe one of the leaders.

Both options were equally terrifying. The possibility of an injury serious enough to make him lose ranks over the other initiates, or taking even that away from him and throwing him out of Dauntless for not being suitable anymore.

He swallowed ― the taste of blood still lingering at the back of his throat ― but before he could lift his gaze to look at whoever stood in the other corner of the room, a voice reached him.

“I don’t think you should do that”

It was rather a whisper, almost trembling at the end of the phrase ― not the voice of a doctor, definitely not a Dauntless leader’s.

Shock made the bones of Eric’s neck crack as he snapped his head to look at the other boy.

_Tobias._

Eric felt his hands closing into fists and clenched his teeth, rage overtaking every conscious part of his being. When a crack answered to him tensing his jaw he wondered if there was something left in his body that wouldn’t protest while moving. How long had he been lying there?

“Three days,” the same voice answered him, though he was sure he hadn’t let the question passed his lips “the doctors had trouble with an internal bleeding”

Eric, coming from a place like Erudite ― where it was established that the knowledge of the rest of the factions could not be compared to theirs ― doubted that his counterpart actually knew what an internal bleeding was. It didn’t matter, years of obligatory study after school had him knowing every cause of haemorrhage possible.

Under the headache, he relived the fight that made him miss three whole days of training and surely some precious position in the rankings.

His mind had be too numb from pain to process completely every hit ― he had stopped feeling the punches aimed at his face and stopped by his forearms long ago and only the kicks with special force would get through the throbbing pain running through his body ― but even in that moment, he had known what had been the cause of the injury.

After far exceeded the amount of time they had habituated their bodies to keep up in a fight, they both had started wanting to finish the other as soon as they could. Though perhaps the anxiety of lengthening the fight long enough to annoy their instructor had also had some influence.

Eric had noticed at some point the mind of Tobias seemed to be somewhere else and he had tried to take advantage of it, but the next punch had pulled the boy back from his thoughts. The look of pure fury that took over the colour of his eyes had Eric almost failing the hit.

From that moment on, everything had been red ― each other’s blood over each other’s skin and their own ― and the movements had started to be measured on a scale of pain that reached far more high than either of them would’ve wanted.

Fire would remain burning in Tobias’ eyes and Eric had only have enough time to assess the possibilities of winning between his deteriorated body and the passion that fire seemed to enclose.

The result hadn’t been in his favour.

But when his temple hit the mattress he remembered he had left Erudite behind. Equations didn’t decide the outcomes and probabilities didn’t dictate his decisions. So he stood up, blinking away the blood falling over his left eye and kept fighting.

The falls had continued and so had the raisings.

Until the only thing he could do when he had lifted himself from the floor had been staggering and throwing punches that had been avoided with a condescension offensive to his pride.

The last time his head had touched the floor he had barely distinguished the other initiates’ dark forms training around. Through the still persisting hit echoing in his ears ― fazing him enough time for him to know he couldn’t lift himself fast enough to avoid the kicking ― he looked around for some shape that could belong to their instructor.

He could just spot crossed arms over a chest through the drops of blood falling from his eyelashes and the great Erudite part that had stayed with him had been pure logic as it stablished that ― with his null possibilities ― it was better to avoid far worse injuries. The throbbing pain wouldn’t have let him consider any other option as he weakly nodded at his instructor, indicating that he could stop the fight.

The moment the man had ordered to stop the confrontation and had been about to announce the winner, Tobias’ final kick had been already halfway to Eric’s chest, burying into his side with a force that nearly had him throwing up.

He had heard the crack of bones and ― through all the pain’s hammering in every fibre of his being ― he had felt one of his ribs grazing lung’s surface before falling in a darkness that isolated him from everything.

He frowned almost unwittingly, his gaze darkening, his mouth in a grimace. What was doing the  _stiff_  there? Shoving in his face a victory and three days of unconsciousness? Trying to find the remains of his pride to make it pieces himself?

He felt his jaw tense and he wasn’t sure to trust his voice. His lips drew a thin line as he buried his fingers in the sheets and the mattress beneath him to not get up and shove the other initiate against the wall. Though the jabbing pain from his back to the centre of his chest told him he could do it, anyway.

Before he could think of saying something, Tobias came out of the shadows over the corner of the room, slowly approaching the bed with uncertain steps.

Eric could see the way he restlessly bit his lower lip even if he had his mouth shut. He could see the motion his teeth caused ― short, fast bites on the flesh.

Tobias also frowned, his gaze fixed on the floor at his feet. Arms crossed before him, hands twisting the shirt’s seams.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you”

For a moment, Eric wanted to laugh.

Until their eyes met, abruptly, with an unexpected force.

The dark cobalt of Tobias’ eyes seemed to have lost all light they could once have had, however, the more he looked in Eric’s eyes ― the more he lost himself in the pure black of his pupils ― the more strength had the bright that curled around the edge of his iris, eating part of the emptiness.

Tightening his hold on the bed, Eric thought those eyes urged him to believe the other but he couldn’t understand what it could mean.  _Is he laughing at me? Playing the innocent, with remorse one… just so he can find this situation way more entertaining?_

Eric didn’t know how that boy of nervous lips and empty gaze had been the same boy of burning eyes and cruel hits that had beaten him. He didn’t know why he had shown up with what seemed to be a bad trying of an apologize between his lips. Nor did he know why he heard his counterpart turning and whispering in his sleep until the sheets ended up on the ground and he woke up with the beginning of a scream that died in his throat, gasping for air as if he was drowning, covered in sweat.

He didn’t know what Marcus had done.

Tobias shoved the weight of his body from one leg to the other, ending up in a try of straight shoulders, still looking in Eric’s eyes.

He didn’t want to give more explanations and he wouldn’t.

The simple fact caused him shivers down his spine. How he had lost control over a fight ― where his opponent had taken him as seriously as he had wanted with the others he had fought ― just because his father’s memories had crossed his mind more time than he could have borne.

When had come back to his rational state, his eyes had taken in the unconscious body at his feet. Blood decorated the mattress, not caring who it was. He had seen the red all over the other boy’s skin among the purple marks. He had felt the blood in his own skin ― his and Eric’s.

He blinked and shook his head to avoid the images in his mind. A deep pain in his chest that almost not allowed him to breathe, a weight that seemed unbearable over his shoulders.

He took a couple of deep breaths and fixed his gaze in Eric again.

Eric’s stormy grey eyes seemed not to left his, lightly narrowed, deciding to believe him or not. Or perhaps deciding whether to make him think he believed him or not.

He had never been able to read so well between those masks of distrust Eric had been building.

Eric had never been able to fathom the past enclosed in those deep, dark waters of Tobias’ eyes, neither.

The pride was the only thing clearly radiating from both of them.

“I suggest you the next time you mean it”

Perhaps the only chance they had had to see truthfully each other had been that first day of initiation, after the Choosing Ceremony. When two pairs of eyes found each other through a train and two transfers that had left behind a past they wanted to scape jumped together to what could have been nothing at all. Adrenaline running through their veins, laughing when their shoulders collided ― blue and grey ― as they hit the stones of the roof.

When their first smile of freedom had been for each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [Tumblr](http://leadingrebel.tumblr.com/post/89842920341)


End file.
